Deathbed Epiphanies
by Young Goodman Brown
Summary: Some are heartbreaking. Some are earth-shattering. But not all lay the dying to rest.  NejiTen. Team Gai.


_A/N: Not a preview of what will happen in 'The Second Absolution'. I promise._

_Disclaimer: Yeah, no._

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It was over.

The Fourth Shinobi World War had been raging for two terrible, bloody years, longer than anyone anticipated and far longer than their forces could handle. But now it was over, all over—that ultimate Armageddon of a battle finally ended the conflict, peace was achieved at last, and countless victims remained in the aftermath.

The least of which included Hyuuga Neji's sight.

He found he didn't mind much, not really. It was nothing compared to being eighteen and exhausted, stuck in some godforsaken forest with his throat smashed and his body irreparably broken. He'd sworn upon his father's grave that he would become strong, strong enough to not lose to anyone—but now he was going to die young and well before his prime, before the genius of his thick Hyuuga blood could ever be fully realized.

…It didn't help that, at the end of it all, he'd failed to save _her_.

The ache of it all was unbearable.

Still, even without his vision, he'd always been a man of perception—of all-encompassing and unfailing insight. He could taste the blood and bile on his tongue, knowing it would doom him to only a few minutes more before he'd stagger on to the afterlife. He could hear the subdued mourning of the men he considered his brother and father, both unharmed but damaged still, their somber quiet an eerie contrast to the boisterous battle cries of earlier. Above all else, though, he could feel _her—_crumpled beside him, desperately trying to force air into her deteriorating lungs and helplessly terrified of the inevitability of death.

To an outside observer, and to even Gai-sensei and Lee, she wouldn't appear that way—she'd always put up a good front of being a strong, practical shinobi, one who'd literally kill for this, to sacrifice herself and to die honorably in the service of Konoha. They would remember her with respect alone. But only he would notice how her fingers trembled, how the shuddering of her gasps meant that she would sob if her lungs could only force out the sound.

The thought, gruesome as it was, left him with something akin to warmth. No one understood her as he did, after all, just as she was always the one who best understood _him. _Sure, it was true that all of the members of Team Gai were close with one another, and that he trusted Lee and Gai-sensei with his very life, but he'd never hidden how Tenten had always meant something…different to him.

Since the beginning, their team had consisted of two distinct parts—_us vs. them._ That unwritten division remained even after they'd grown used to the Green Beasts, even after the years of fighting together as one of the most efficient and tight-knit squads in all of Fire Country, for reasons they'd never actually discussed.

But he was Hyuuga Neji, and little, if anything, escaped his notice. He knew what those reasons were. Despite the fighting and the bloodshed that made up the entirety of their existence, they were still, in the end, just a boy and a girl. Just two restless youths who even with their hectic, violent lives managed to spend an inordinate amount of time with one another. And it was more than just the evil machinations of his hormones, he knew—no two people knew and supported each other as they did, and no two people would work together as seamlessly, would enmesh as perfectly they'd always done.

It wasn't a secret how she complemented him in every way, and how he needed her so desperately as a result. He was a Hyuuga, forever bound to family and a clan name; she was an orphan, and chained to neither. He was known for his solemnity and rigidity; she always radiated exuberance and good cheer. He was an expert in close combat, one who employed sharp, calculated jabs; she was a long-distance fighter, one who battled with graceful, extravagant movements, who danced amidst dragons and rained destruction upon her enemies from the expanse of the sky. He was structure, she was fluidity; he was moderation, she was excess; he was ice, she was warmth. He was defined by neutral tones, washed out and boring and utterly lackluster; she was painted with crimson and gold, vibrancy and verve, a splatter of color across the dull monochrome of his dreary existence.

And, if he really thought about it…

…He was the cage. She was his freedom.

It was only fitting that they would meet their end together_._

And with a shock, he realized that was okay—that if she had to die, he didn't mind dying along with her. Ever since those fateful Chuunin exams, he'd reinterpreted and rewritten his own destiny, and with his teammates before them and Tenten beside him _this_ truly might not be such a bad way to go. It was his decision and his alone, after all, to sacrifice himself for her, and even though that attempt was fruitless in the end it didn't mean the whole of his life was a tragedy.

Not anymore. Not when his father was waiting for him. Not when Tenten would be, too.

Yes, he didn't mind the dark any longer. He was ready now.

The melody of her voice drifted through the haze of his peaceful thoughts, a delicate whisper that washed over his eyelids and settled gently upon his ears.

_"I've always been in…love…"_

She choked then, and he did not know if it was emotion or pain that overpowered her shuddering form. Still, he found his lips twitching upward in spite of himself—of all the reasons why she'd fear death, it _would_ be that one. The thought of passing on before telling him, before voicing the depths of her feelings, was likely even more distressing for her than the fact that her body was wrecked beyond repair. It was so like her, to care about something silly like that, that if his neck wasn't crushed to pieces he would have laughed out loud.

_It's okay, Ten. _If there was one thing he knew, it was that they'd never, ever needed words with one another. Their ability to communicate without speech transcended the bond of comrades, of teammates or even of friends, just as with so many other aspects of their intricate, deep-rooted relationship.

She didn't need to say anything for him to know. Their lives and very souls had been inextricably intertwined ever since the day they became a team, and if he were a man who could love he knew she would have been the one.

_I think I was too, Ten. I really do. Now follow me—and together we'll step into the dark._

He hoped she could hear his unspoken thoughts, the steady comfort of his slowing breaths, even as he drifted off into the big sleep.

_"…with you, Lee."_

He snapped awake at that. He could barely hear his brother's cry of anguish as his own throat gurgled helplessly, unable to form even a semblance of a word. So he opened his eyes instead, to see something, _anything—_but it was over, and they were at the end of it all, and he was dying, now. The darkness was everywhere, stronger, more urgent than ever, and with only seconds left he'd never be able to fight against it. It wouldn't have made a difference, anyways.

He'd been blind all along.

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_A/N: …_


End file.
